


Timestamp: Starlight, Starbright

by amfiguree



Series: peter pan au [2]
Category: American Idol RPF, Peter Pan - J. M. Barrie
Genre: Gen, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-03
Updated: 2014-02-03
Packaged: 2018-01-11 01:08:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1166792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amfiguree/pseuds/amfiguree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes being as tiny as he is really, really sucks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Timestamp: Starlight, Starbright

it doesn't happen very much, because david's totally grateful for everything he's gotten in life (just -- he can _fly_ , okay, he has wings and he's a fairy, his life is _awesome_ ), but sometimes, he hates being small a lot. like, _a lot_ a lot.  
  
he's just - he's only got so much room for so much feeling, so when he gets mad, or upset, or worried, it's like walking around with a migraine all day, or listening to a record skipping over all your favorite notes. it's _awful_.  
  
(there are totally not-awful parts too, though! when he's happy, it feels like he's never going to stop smiling, like he's going to _burst_ with it, like he has _so much_ in him that if he sprinkles enough fairy dust the entire world could feel like he does. and that's how he feels 90% of the time or whatever, when he's flying, or when he's singing to the flowers to tell them to _bloom and grow, the sun is really pretty_ , or when the castros let him braid their hair, or when he's with cook--  
  
um.)  
  
anyway. right now is pretty high up there on the awfulness chart. he's throwing his things into his bag (and oh my gosh, he's too _mad_ to even care that it might not hold up, maple leafs aren't all that strong), trying to ignore the way he can _feel_ cook's gaze on him. if cook's going to be a - a big _jerk_ , and, like, banish him from never-never land _forever_ , then whatever. david is totally entitled to not turn around.   
  
"archie," cook says.  
  
david resolutely shoves another t-shirt into his already full bag.  
  
"arch," cook tries again. "come on."  
  
"i should go," david says, stubbornly. "ramiele said that the stars are pretty far away, and i can't fly that long unless i--"  
  
"for fuck's sake, david!" cook explodes. david totally doesn't flinch. "don't -- i didn't _mean_ it, okay? i was just mad because brooke got hurt."  
  
david tries to close his eyes and count to ten, but he barely even makes it to three before he's turning to glare at cook. his skin is flushed and glowing and _this is why no one takes fairies seriously_ , oh my heck, he hates that too, _so much_ , because it makes something soften in cook's eyes, and--no.  
  
"i didn't _mean_ it," he says, angrily. "and i don't want to talk about it anymore. and also where did you hide my jacket, because it's cold in outer space and i'm going to need it."  
  
cook's jaw tightens again, minutely, but david's known cook _forever_ now - they've shared a bedroom almost his entire life - and he can read cook like an open book. "a star is a giant ball of burning gas," he snaps. "so i think you'll manage without it."  
  
"oh my _gosh_ , do you have to be such a know-it-all all the time?" david huffs, but he grabs his bag and slings it over his shoulder anyway, zips over to the window.  
  
cook doesn't say a word this time, and david pauses, just for a second, to say over his shoulder, quietly, "i hope you have fun with brooke."  
  
and then cook lets him leave.   
  
which--of course that's when captain cowell captures him. _of course_.  
  
sometimes, david thinks morosely, as he rattles at the glass paneling of the tiny oil lamp, being small really, _really_ sucks.


End file.
